


The Bet

by gryvon



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Community: slashfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-06
Updated: 2005-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-09 22:36:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryvon/pseuds/gryvon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warrick would give anything to get Greg to shut up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bet

Warrick shot an annoyed glare at Greg as he babbled about Warrick's results, taking the long-winded way in explaining the results. There were some days, most days really, when he'd give anything just for the kid to shut up. He tapped his pen against his palm as Greg worked his way around to the point in his usual round-about way. Greg's eyes followed the silver pen with vague interest. Thinking back, Greg had mentioned before that he liked the sleek silver pens Warrick always picked up.

"Yo, Greg," he interrupted as an idea came to him. Greg's lips stilled and he smiled at Warrick with thinly veiled amusement. Once he had Greg's attention Warrick held up the pen. "I'll give you this pen if you'll shut up for five minutes."

The challenge only made Greg's smile wider. He practically bounced as he made a zipping motion across his lips. Warrick checked the time before holding out his hand towards Greg. "Can I have my results?"

Greg handed him the paper without a word, his smile saying that Greg thought he was getting the better end of the deal.

Warrick took his time reading over the results. Nothing out of the ordinary, and definitely nothing that warranted the song and dance Greg had been putting on. He guessed it was just a way for Greg to derive amusement from them all. Considering the rest of his day was spent playing with test tubes and pushing buttons, Warrick couldn't really blame him. But logic didn't do much to placate him when all he wanted was a simple answer so he could move on with the next part of his case.

Greg tapped him on the shoulder to get Warrick's attention and then pointed to his watch. Five minutes was up. He handed over with a wry smile, his insides fluttering as Greg turned his smile up on high.

"Thank you." Greg took the pen with a flourish, sweeping down into a comical bow before tucking the pen away into his coat pocket. "I've been trying to find where you've been getting those for weeks."

"It's just a pen, Greg."

"Ah, but it's more than a pen! It's a shiny, metallic pen." Greg beamed. Warrick wondered if maybe Greg was spiking his coffee with sugar, there had to be some explanation for how that kid got so much boundless energy. Or maybe it was just the coffee that did it. How many cups of the stuff did he go through in a day? Warrick knew he had at least three while at work, probably one or two when he got up. Hell, the kid probably took a cup as a nightcap before he went to bed.

"Sure you don't want to tell me where you get 'em?" Hope radiated through Greg's voice.

Warrick smiled, suddenly in the mood to play back. He had his results, Grissom was out, and the case wasn't going anywhere. "What, and loose my bargaining edge?"

Greg's smile filled the room. If he didn't know better, Warrick would almost think that Greg was flirting with him. Then again, considering this was Greg, he probably was flirting, he flirted with everything. Strange enough, it sounded like he meant it, too.

"You could always bribe me with something else?"

Warrick quirked an eyebrow. "That so?"

Greg nodded, his grin turning devilish. He got the distinct feeling he was being challenged.

"That a bet?"

"It could be," was Greg's coy answer. Warrick Brown did not turn down a good bet, particularly one he was certain to win at. There was no way Greg could keep his mouth shut for more than five minutes at a time. He figured the worst he could do was give Greg a head start.

"What do you want?"

Greg's smile quirked wider. "Make me an offer."

Well, if that's the way he wanted to play this... "I'll give you a pack of post-it notes if you last ten minutes." The rest of the office would hate him if they found out about that. Greg was a menace when it came to post it notes. Last time he had some, Warrick had found them all over the place, including a note about dogs taped to take-out Chinese in the fridge.

"I can go longer." The words were accompanied by a hint of sashay and Warrick was really starting to doubt that Greg was just joking around with the flirting. No straight man could look quite so smug when talking to another man about staying power.

Warrick found himself grinning back. "I'll give you that stapler you keep stealing from me if you can go half an hour."

"It's called borrowing," Greg corrected. "That as far as you want to go?"

"A pack of that nice printer paper you keep going on about if you can last two hours."

"Keep going." Greg stepped closer until there was just a stool between them. The way Greg smiled just screamed predator. Warrick found he didn't mind too much being the prey.

"How long do you thing you can last, G?" Warrick asked with a smile, his eyes raking up and down Greg's figure in a look that was more than just play.

"I can go all night."

"Really?" Warrick felt his insides jump at the confidence in Greg's tone and he had the sudden urge to catch Greg outside of the lab to see if he really could go all night. "I don't think you've got that kind of stamina." And didn't that just put wonderful pictures in his head.

"Trust me," Greg purred. "I can last. Assuming, of course, I've got proper incentive."

Warrick's lips moved on their own, turning up into a hungry grin before he even realized he was answering back, pushing the innuendo a step further. "What kind of incentive are you looking for?"

"Dinner."

The answer was so simple that Warrick had to take a second to process it. "That's it?"

"Yep." Greg's tone said he was one-hundred percent sure.

Warrick eyed the lab tech with suspicion. The odds never turned out this good. "What's the catch? There's six hours left of the shift. You're not giving it up that easy."

Greg swayed around the stool until he was shoulder to shoulder with Warrick, his hips moving in a way that said he'd be more than willing to give it up easy. "Well, I'd ask for dinner at your place but I figured that's just for chicks."

He had to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat before he could talk. "It's not just for chicks."

Greg's eyebrow quirked and then he moved past Warrick to shuffle some papers on one of the countertops. Warrick turned, his eyes following Greg as he moved. After a long pause Greg turned, his smile wide enough to swallow the ocean. "So, that's a deal?" He struck out his hand and Warrick took it.

"Deal." Greg made that zipping motion over his lips again. Warrick turned to leave. He'd been content to leave it at that but as he hit the doorway, he couldn't resist one parting shot.

"I'll be watching you Greg." Damn if that didn't seem to make Greg happier.

*****

"Warrick, what the hell did you do?" Catherine burst into the locker room, aggravation written plain across her face.

He turned away to hide the smile that stole onto his face. He'd been getting that a lot today, ever since his bet with Greg. Somehow, without him or Greg saying a word, people had figured out about the bet. Not that restricting Greg from speaking made him any less of an annoyance. When Warrick had stopped in earlier he'd been treated to a game of charades, and he'd caught the tail end of the slideshow Greg had given Nick. He could just imagine the kinds of performances Greg had put on for the rest of the CSI.

"It's just a bet, Cath," he placated, the effect of the gesture lost when he couldn't stop grinning. "Besides it's over now."

"It better be," she growled, turning her back on him to rummage through her locker. "Do you have any idea how aggravating he's been today?"

"Yeah. I got the picture." Not even Catherine's ire could take away the humor of the day.

Catherine whirled on him, her pretty face marred by a dark frown. "I don't normally care what you boys bet on but don't ever do that again!"

The door to the locker room opened as he answered. "I won't," he promised with as much sincerity as he could dreg up.

Someone coughed, and Warrick looked up to see Greg staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You can talk now, you know. You won."

Greg beamed and practically skipped into the locker room.

"Finally," Catherine sighed. "I'm off. You boys enjoy yourself." Her dire mood disappeared in an instant as she sent Greg a conspiratorial wink.

"She knows?" Warrick wasn't really surprised.

"She knows about the dinner," Greg smiled at him. He shucked his lab coat and changed from the somewhat conservative shirt he was wearing into a t-shirt bright enough to make the sun blink.

"There's more than the dinner?" He couldn't help but tease. A flirtatious smirk crept on his face. He couldn't resist throwing out a lure, and he was more than half-hoping Greg caught it.

"There could be." Greg shut his locker with a matching smirk.

"There could." Warrick stood and offered his hand to Greg. "Shall we?"

*****

Warrick held the door open for Greg. The lab tech walked in with wide eyes, glancing around the apartment appreciatively.

"Nice place." He turned and smiled at Warrick with dancing eyes.

"It works for me." Echoing Greg's smile, he locked the door behind him. He had a feeling neither of them would be leaving for a while.

Passing Greg with a teasing glance, he headed for the kitchen. "What would you like for your promised dinner? I don't have much here so it'll be hit or miss whether I have ingredients or not."

"I was hoping for a tour before dinner." Greg was right behind him as Warrick turned, the same flirtatious smile affixed to the lab tech's face. Stretching up, Greg wrapped his arms around Warrick's neck, his face mere inches away from Warrick's own. "Maybe you'd like to introduce me to your bedroom."

Warrick's hands found the bottom of Greg's shirt. He slipped his hands under the fabric, trailing his hands up with possessive force. Leaning forward, Warrick whispered into Greg's skin. "There's time for that later."

He could hear Greg smile as he pulled the younger man into him. His lips found their way to the soft flesh below Greg's ear. Greg moaned softly as Warrick kissed close to the junction of his shoulder, the sound stirring lower parts of Warrick's body into attention. He turned them, pushing Greg back into the counter as his hands pushed Greg's shirt up to his armpits. Greg untwined his arms from Warrick long enough to roughly pull the shirt off, dropping it to the floor before pressing back into Warrick with ardent fervor.

Their bodies meshed, hips grinding and limbs tangling. One of Greg's legs hooked against Warrick's hip and he grabbed the back of Greg's knee, thrusting his hips into the newly opened crevice. A louder moan slipped from Greg's lips, followed by a string of affirmations, urging Warrick to move harder, to give him more. Greg's back arched against the countertop and Warrick felt the sudden urge to feel flesh against flesh. He let Greg's leg fall away as he hurriedly started work on the buttons of his dress shirt, popping the first button in his haste. Greg's hands joined him, parting the fabric with practiced ease.

The shirt fell away and Greg surged forward, Greg smashing their lips together as their bodies met. Warrick returned the kiss, probing forward with his tongue. Greg opened his lips, surrendering the cavern of his mouth to Warrick's invasion but continuing the battle with a rather adventurous tongue. Warrick shoved Greg back against the counter. He felt a moment of concern as Greg's back met the counter hard but the sounds swallowed by their meshed lips were far from pain-filled. The need for air crept on him but Warrick ignored it, too busy with the tantalizing heat he found thrusting against Greg's body.

Greg shoved him suddenly, breaking the kiss with a loud gasp of air. Smoldering eyes held Warrick's own and he moved docilely as Greg turned him until their positions were reversed. Instead of pressing forward Greg dropped to his knees, his hands fumbling hurriedly with the clasp of Warrick's pants. The fabric was let to fall, followed shortly by Warrick's boxers. Greg was on him in a second, eager hands a fleeting warning before he was engulfed. Warrick's eyes threatened to roll back as Greg swallowed him in one swift motion, surrounding Warrick's cock with tantalizing wet heat.

His hips thrust forward involuntarily and he grasped the countertop behind him as he fought for control. Greg bobbed, his tongue burning a trail on the bottom of Warrick's cock.

"God, you're good," Warrick moaned in appreciation. Greg hummed happily, swirling his tongue in a move that almost pushed Warrick over the edge. He switched his hands from the counter to Greg's shoulder, gently pushing the younger man away.

Greg smiled up at him and sat back on his heels, continued interest obvious in the tenting of his jeans. "Bedroom?"

Warrick stared down at the pale chest exposed before him, glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. He had a swimmer's body, thin and lithe. Warrick had a vision of Greg in perfect shape, diving in the ocean waves, a practiced swimmer. Toned muscles were now hidden beneath a thin layer of flesh but Greg's body was all the more alluring for it, giving his body a softer look. He could imagine how that body would feel beneath him, straining against the sheets.

With supreme effort he pulled his eyes away to glance at the hall leading to his bedroom. "Too far away."

Grabbing Greg by the shoulders he pulled the young man to his feet. His hands reached to undo Greg's pants while he toed out of his shoes, pushing Greg back as he stepped out of his clothes. He kept going until Greg hit the kitchen table but instead of stopping he knelt slightly to grab both of Greg's knees, flipping Greg back onto the table as he stood. Greg caught himself with his hands, holding himself half-upright as he watched Warrick pull off the last of their clothing.

"At least the table's getting used today," Greg commented with a smirk.

Warrick smiled back absently, his eyes scanning the kitchen for some sort of lubrication. Moving away for a second he grabbed the vegetable oil off the counter before hurrying back.

"Planning on doing a little cooking?" Greg's eyes danced with mirth even as he spread his legs for Warrick.

"Not quite." He fit easily between Greg's legs. Some of the oil dribbled onto the floor as he coated his fingers. Greg took the bottle from him, twisting on the cap before shoving it back on the table. He slipped a finger inside Greg, adding more after the first was easily received. Greg fell back against the wooden table with a moan, his legs coming up to wrap tightly around Warrick's hips, pulling him forward.

Greg arched off the table as Warrick's fingers brushed the sensitive knob inside of him. "Now. Please. Warrick."

Warrick didn't need to be told twice. He entered Greg in one swift thrust, flesh parting around him. Tight heat welcomed him and it felt like home. His hands fell to either side of Greg's chest. He braced himself against the table, staring down at Greg's flushed face as he tried to catch his breath. Greg smiled at him, a tender look spreading across his face. Reaching up, Greg wrapped his arms around Warrick's neck and pulled him into a kiss. Their lips met in a soft caress. Where their first kiss had been hot and passionate this one was full of gentle warmth.

Greg's lips parted for him, coaxing Warrick in. His hips stirred to life, starting with slow, shallow thrusts that built in intensity. The loud noises that fell from Greg's lips only spurred him on. A stream of incoherent babble filled the room as Warrick moved. He couldn't make sense out of half the things Greg said but that was hardly abnormal for him.

They were both close. Greg had nearly finished him with the blow-job earlier and Warrick found himself gripping Greg's hips tight as he tried to hold on. Pleasure was coursing though him, too good to give up without a fight but release was inevitable. It snuck up on him, a single moment of infinite pleasure that hit him between one thrust and the next. He was silent as he came, the soft sigh of breath he let out at the end the only sign of his contentment.

His hands shook slightly as he stilled, opening his eyes to look down at a flushed body still in need of attention. He stayed where he was, softening flesh still encased in Greg, while he reached down with a lazy hand to stroke Greg to fulfillment. Greg's hips followed Warrick's hand, the lab tech's eyes glazing over as he rocked Warrick inside of him. Warrick's eyes took in every detail of the sight before him, watching avidly as Greg's body tensed, his back arching clear off the table as he came with a loud shout.

After a moment's panicked breathing Greg finally relaxed, melting back onto the table with a contented look on his face. His eyes fluttered and Warrick chuckled. Pulling out, he extended a hand to help Greg off the table.

"How about a shower before you fall asleep?"

Greg murmured agreeably as he folded into Warrick's arms, docilely allowing himself to be lead through the apartment.

"Sorry I didn't get a chance to make you dinner."

Greg pulled Warrick into the shower with him, a lazy smile on his face. "There's always tomorrow."

An echoing smile budded on Warrick's face. "That there is."

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://gryvon.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/gryvon). Prompts can be submitted [here](http://gryvon.com/uncategorized/prompt-me/). Check out my [blog](http://jennahale.com) and [writing website](http://gryvon.com).


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